Cult hero who knows how to split his fans

SOMEHOW, it is difficult to picture Richard Thompson, a Londoner and lover of English folk music, at home in Pacific Palisades, a well-heeled, clean and safe suburb of Los Angeles. "It is a fairly bland place in terms of culture. It is fairly neutral," Thompson says, not exactly over-selling the delights of his adopted home in California.

SOMEHOW, it is difficult to picture Richard Thompson, a Londoner and lover of English folk music, at home in Pacific Palisades, a well-heeled, clean and safe suburb of Los Angeles.

"It is a fairly bland place in terms of culture. It is fairly neutral," Thompson says, not exactly over-selling the delights of his adopted home in California.

"If I was in New Orleans, I may think this is a wonderful culture and I must start to embrace it. But there is nothing really to embrace there. It allows you to be who you are . . . with slightly better weather."

LA is also handy for Thompson's touring schedule, taking him more often around the USA than the UK these days. Which brings us to the fisticuffs.

Thompson last year made a point of including anti-war songs in his concert sets, and is not shy of giving fans the benefit of his opinion of their President, George W Bush.

"It upsets the audience sometimes, which I think is great," says Thompson, revelling in his ability to ruffle feathers. "We have had fights in the audience and people walking out. Sometimes I talk directly against war and make jokes against George W.

"You have to say something. I am just concerned that so much of the media is gagged that someone at least has to start a debate, even if it is a fisticuffs debate.

"It is very scary. The current administration has pushed people to such extremes that it is almost like two countries."

Naturally, Thompson is unafraid to tackle the big topics in song. But he will also turn his barbed wit to softer targets.

There was even a recent song, Dear Janet Jackson, prompted by that singer's "wardrobe malfunction" at the Super Bowl, suggesting that she pursue a new career as a wet nurse. Though Thompson, perhaps overtaken by an English sense of fair play, now wonders if the song may have been "a cheap shot".

When I mention Rolling Stone magazine's description of Thompson as "king of gloom", the singer - a careful and slightly reticent interviewee - punctures that notion with gales of laughter.

Leonard Cohen

"I think that would be more appropriate for Leonard Cohen," he says.

He may not be quite so gloomy, but Thompson does have one thing in common with Cohen - a son following his famous father into the music business.

"They are all friends, too, which is the strange thing, and they all hang out together - Adam Cohen, Chris Stills, Rufus Wainwright," says Thompson.

His son, Teddy, another member of this new songwriting generation, has just completed his second album, on which one guest turn, naturally, is his dad.

"I have no concerns about Teddy because he has his head screwed on. I always thought he would land on his feet. There are fewer pitfalls about going into the music business these days than there used to be. Kids have their eyes open much more than we did in the sixties."

But he adds: "It is such a disposable system that you have one shot at success and, if it doesn't work, you're out of the door. The disposal rate of talent is phenomenal."

Thompson's own recording debut was in 1968 as a founder member of Fairport Convention, the seminal British folk-rock group. But, by 1971, was off on a solo career whose commercial success has never truly matched its artistic merit.

Much of that decade was spent making music with his then wife, Linda, their Shoot Out The Lights album marking, ironically, their commercial breakthrough and the end of their marriage.

In the two decades since, Thompson has released a string of critically-acclaimed albums, but now finds himself back on a small, independent label. "It is a lot better," he says.

"I am selling as many records but I own the records now and it is a huge difference not having to interface with the corporate world, where there would always be people trying to justify their jobs making suggestions, often not really to the benefit of the music."

Open any guitar magazine and somebody will be praising Thompson as one of our nation's finest six-stringers. "I know that it is a transitory thing," says Thomspon, resisting the flattery.

"You're only as good as your last solo. Every day you have to reconnect with that song and you have to express it again in a different time and place in front of a different audience. Some days you might be rubbish."

Richard Thompson plays at the Buxton Opera House on Wednesday, May 26. Tickets are é17, é20. Call 0845 12 72190. He then performs at the Bridgewater Hall, Manchester, on Friday, May 28. Tickets are priced é16.50. Call 0161 907 9000.